Lost at Sea
by lynnmichelle
Summary: Sam Carter is feeling lost, unsure of her future. Jack O'Neill will play a pivotal role is helping her figure out what it will look like.  Missing scenes End of Season 10 SG1Beginning of Season 4 of SGA. Sam Carter POV. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
1. And so it begins

Chapter 1 - And so it begins

I'm sitting at the desk in my lab when the telephone rings. There's no caller ID at Stargate Command so I always answer with some trepidation these days. Since our last encounter with the Ori I've been feeling somewhat lost at sea. What a silly expression for an Air Force Colonel to use. I mean I feel a little lost. I just don't know which direction I should be heading in anymore.

After a decade of knowing my role, fighting the good fight, I find myself wondering what I should be doing. I know what I _am_ doing. I spend everyday trying to work on a way to prevent the Ori from coming back to Earth. It's just like it was with the Goa'uld. Only worse. And if I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I don't want to do it anymore. I'm tired.

I'm tired of the pressure that I constantly feel on my shoulders and the point in my head directly above the bridge of my nose. Constant pressure. I want it to go away and I want things back to the way they were at the beginning when I first joined SG-1 and everything was new and shiny. And hopeful.

Yes, there was the threat from the System Lords but it had never been such an immediate threat and I had set out for every mission with optimistic excitement. I was the kid in the candy store and my store was huge. As big as the universe in fact. I would lie in bed the night before going off world, stare out the window at the stars and imagine what I would find the next day. Some 'doohickey' as he would call it. A piece of alien technology wondrous in it's alienness. Beautiful in it's inherent unknown. Everyday could be the beginning of something incredible. And it was wonderful.

I know that not everyday turned out to be exactly like that. Some days were bad. A day where the technology was destructive in it's nature, intentionally or not, usually ending with one of us getting hurt, or infected, or dead. Yeah, those days weren't so great. To be honest neither were the ones where we encountered the Goa'uld or another power hungry insane God complex driven alien race. Those days someone just usually ended up being killed, at best maimed for life.

But there was always the hope. And knowing that we were winning. At least some of the time. And we were together. SG-1. A family. My family. Always knowing we would be there for each other, in spite of the adversity we faced.

Only now, looking back, do I realize that for at least one member of our team it was because of the adversity, because of the fight. My God, he couldn't have left any quicker once the war with the Goa'uld was over. I remember talking with his ex-wife once. Years ago it was now. I don't think I can even remember the exact circumstance but I can recall what she said as if she were in the room with me today.

"Jack's so good at running away from his feelings, isn't he? The damn man can face a truck load of the enemy without flinching, ready to stand his ground and die but the minute he has to deal with his own emotions, he's gone. And you never get him back."

Her tone was so bitter, years of hurt tripping off her tongue and I had stood there, baffled, wondering who the hell this man was that she was talking about. Because it definitely wasn't the man _I_ knew. Not _my_ Jack O'Neill. He was always there for me knowing just what I needed when I needed it. I had known with every ounce of my being that he would always be right there at my side. Through the good times and the bad.

I had known nothing.

The phone continued to ring.


	2. Willingness to travel

Chapter 2 – Willingness to travel

The conversation was short and perfunctory. I wouldn't expect any more, or less, from Human Resources but I still sat trying to take in what I'd heard, replaying the exchange in my head.

* * *

The International Oversight Advisory (IOA), the agency on Earth that oversees the Atlantis expedition, had made the decision to classify Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the leader of Atlantis, officially Missing In Action after her capture by the Replicators. Although her team would probably still search for her, the clipped female voice had informed me, there would be no official search and rescue mission. For a moment at that point in the conversation I had gasped in outrage, shocked that they would be prepared to leave her in enemy hands, forming the words in my mouth ready to protest. Quickly I'd closed my mouth, biting the inside of my cheek knowing that this Lieutenant had nothing to do with the decision and had no influence over the outcome. I'd felt frustration well up inside me making me physically hot and I could feel my hands beginning to sting as I held the handset tighter.

Why was this woman telling me this anyway? Why not General Landry? And then she finally got to the point. They were recruiting for Dr. Weir's replacement and it was suggested that I might wish to apply.

"Excuse me?", I'd spluttered, my brain still working on figuring out why we weren't out there finding Elizabeth. The woman had paused, obviously wondering why for such a supposedly bright woman, I just wasn't making the connections.

"Head of the Atlantis mission," she said in a slower voice. "They'd like you to apply."

I felt an involuntary frown crease my forehead and without thinking I asked "Who?"

It was her turn to excuse herself and I took a deep breath and calmly asked "Who suggested me?" I wasn't calm and for some reason the answer to that question seemed critical to me at that moment.

"Well I'm not really at liberty to say but you come highly recommended by some people at the IOA."

I shook my head to no one in particular and said nothing. An irrational irritation suddenly hit me and I just wanted to get off the phone. I didn't want to keep the conversation going and couldn't think of anything to say anyway.

"OK", was the best that I could come up with and the HR woman mistakenly took this as a signal of my interest and that I wanted her to continue. She talked oh so efficiently about the "next steps in the process" and that she'd e-mail the job description to me immediately. I held back an inelegant snort forming in my nose, laughing inwardly at the idea that someone actually had tried to explain on a two dimensional piece of paper what it meant to be the leader of Atlantis, the galaxy hoping outpost of the Ancients.

The words "Willingness to travel" flashed in my mind and the snort had finally escaped of it's own accord. The voice on the end of the line having gotten into her groove explaining the application and the interview process, paused for a second only to continue by noting that although no promises could be made, she felt sure that I'd be automatically short-listed for interview. They were looking to appoint someone to the role as quickly as possible and therefore the interviews would be scheduled within the next few days. My head was spinning, trying to figure out exactly when I had agreed to participate in this "process" she kept mentioning and by the time she told me that she'd need me to fill out the application "for formality reasons of course", I'd had enough.

"I'll think about it and let you know", I said curtly now desperate to end the conversation. "I assume your contact information will be included with your e-mail so I'll call you by end of day tomorrow with my answer."

As an after thought I quickly added the question, "OK, Lieutenant?" and as if by magic I'd felt the balance of power shift. That's right, I reminded myself, I'm the ranking officer here, what the hell was I thinking?

HR representative or not, the woman's military training had kicked in and the right words immediately tripped off her tongue in a strong clear voice.

"Yes Colonel."

And that was that. I hung up the phone and it was finally over.

* * *

And now, here I sit, slumped back in my chair. I look back at the e-mail on my computer screen and I sigh.

"Wow! That's a big sigh."

I jump and turn my head towards the sound of the voice all in one motion. I relax as I see probably my best friend in the universe, Dr. Daniel Jackson, standing in my lab doorway. He looks as casual and scruffy as always, a perception he will never be able to shake while continuing to work as a civilian on a military base. A soft smile ghosts his lips and I know he's encouraging me to speak. I begin to shake my head, no, when I stop, knowing that I need to talk to someone about the Atlantis position and he is, of all people, the best man for the job.

"Well," I start, a little too brightly, "they want me to apply for Dr. Weir's job."

Daniel's face shows at least half a dozen emotions which end with his mouth left half open. He closes it, opens it slightly again and finally closes it ending his impression of a bewildered fish.

"But, that's Atlantis", he blurts out, never one to worry about stating the obvious. The second he finishes speaking, I realize that I might have made a mistake as I remember back to a time a few years ago when he was supposed to go to Atlantis as part of the mission team. He'd been so excited but as always seems to happen with us, some intergalactic emergency, or in that particular case the Ori, had gotten in the way and he'd missed the boat, so to speak.

He actually missed the Daedalus. It went to Atlantis without him and he's never had an opportunity to travel there since. I, however, have and I actually quite like it there. I look directly into his face and simply agree with him.

"Yes it is."

He gently nods his head in introspection and quickly composes himself. He steps further into my lab and takes the seat opposite mine at the desk. I look down at my hands knowing what's coming.

"So, Sam," he says and I raise my eyes to his, "What are you thinking? What do you want to do?"

And those two questions, asked in quiet friendship, make me finally face the fact that that's exactly what I'm going to have to do for the first time in years. I know in that moment that I'm finally going to have to face it. Because there's a third unspoken question hanging in the air between us. Daniel would never come out and just ask anymore but I can still hear it in my head and I can't hide the shadow that shrouds my face.

"What about _him_?"

TBC

A/N I never want to be an author who asks for reviews, but in this case I'm going to. This is a very different style for me as I rarely ever write in the first person so if you have gotten this far, and you have an extra 30 seconds, please can you drop me a quick note to let me know what you think. Thanks.


	3. The Other Man

Chapter 3 - The Other Man

There was a time not so long ago when I'd thought that there was something more between us. Him and I.

My Dad had passed away and he was there for me while I grieved. Holding me tight for all the world to see. Well those in sickbay at the SGC anyway. I had felt so safe with him and even though the grief at the loss of my Dad was threatening to consume me, his soothing words and warm hands kept me from circuming.

Long before that, however, I had come to the conclusion that we would be together once the war was over. I mean really together. We had been so close for so many years that in my mind there couldn't be any other outcome.

I had tried to break free from him once. But I was really only fooling myself into believing that I wanted to be without him. Even my Dad told me later that he'd always thought that Pete was the wrong choice for me although until the very end of his life he didn't admit that Jack might be the right one.

Pete, that was his name. The "other man."

Ridiculous, I know, but I always felt that I was cheating on Jack when I was with Pete. It started as a bit of fun, a distraction. He was someone with whom I could be myself, someone with whom I could go to a movie, hold hands in public. And it was fun at first. Truly. I enjoyed being a girl for the first time in years. I would get dressed up in pretty outfits and spend time on my make-up and hair. I would look in the mirror and see the woman I was always trying to hide on base.

Looking back, I wonder how the heck I let it get so far so fast. It was like I woke up one morning, looked down and found a diamond ring had taken up residence on my finger. How it had gotten there was a blur of misguided resentment aimed at the U.S. Air Force and a long held wish for a normal life.

But I didn't stop it, even then. I went through the motions hoping that Jack would one day walk up to me in the gate room, grab me in a tight embrace and kiss me until I agreed to breaking off my engagement. I would fantasize about the particular scene everywhere. In bed. In the shower. At the grocery store. Everywhere. And it was always the same. It seemed so real, the kiss so vivid, that I would sometimes wake up believing that it had actually happened. It hadn't, but I realized with a fair amount of guilt, that I wished it would.

And so Pete became the other man.

After that it was just a matter of time. How long it would take for me to swallow my pride and admit that I'd made a mistake by agreeing to marry him? You see, I don't often make mistakes in my professional life, my personal life is where my failures usually lie and this should have simply been par for the course. But I even screwed up my failure this time. By letting it get complicated and my personal affairs had seeped onto the base.

I mean I couldn't exactly hide my engagement from them forever especially when my colleagues had grown to become my best friends. And to my mortification they had tried to be so damned supportive. They even threw me an engagement party for crying out loud!

But I knew they had their doubts. I used to catch them sometimes. They would ask about some aspect of the wedding plans and once I had answered I would see the forced smile that didn't quite reach their eyes, the gnawing of a lip while nodding their agreement. They wanted me to be happy, I know that, but it was like they knew this wasn't going to make me so. And of course, they were right so telling them was going to be even harder than telling Pete.

It didn't help either that in their hearts they would know that I was ending it because of Jack. Thankfully Pete would never get to know me well enough to come to that conclusion. And so, one day, God it was before I even knew my Dad was sick, I plucked up the courage to tell him how I felt. Let him know that I was going to end it was Pete.

I had felt physically sick sitting in my car in the driveway and I chided myself as the bile rose in my throat. It wasn't that Jack didn't already know that I cared for him and he'd admitted he had feelings for me during that awful Tok'ra incident. But at that moment I would have rather faced Apophis himself than Jack O'Neill.

I had taken a deep breath, opened the car door and walked towards the house. I felt a sense of dread building inside my head but my feet acted on automatic pilot and I found myself walking besides the yard. And there he was, standing grilling in the yard and I saw it as a sign. He was waiting for me, with a beer in his hand, and I thought that things were going to be ok.

But then Kerry Johnson appeared and the world seemed to fall away from beneath my feet. I had to will myself to stay standing as my knees buckled under the weight of my horror and mortification. How could I have been so stupid to think that he would have waited for me?

My cell phone rang and although I didn't think it was possible, my world fell further into the pit of hell as I discovered that my Dad was terminally ill.

Which led to the hugs from Jack in sick bay.

Jeez, I had thought that he really did care and looking back I now realize that the forced smiles and strange looks had never come from Jack but from Daniel and T'ealc and even General Hammond. Never from Jack. He had acted as the perfect Commanding Officer and supported me in every way. God damn him.

And then we went fishing.

A/N This is for Melissa - Thanks for the kick!


End file.
